


Come home with me

by Neuropsyche



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, Peter is Spiderman - although Tony doesn't know it, Tony is Ironman, stripper peter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-07-11 20:50:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19934305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Neuropsyche/pseuds/Neuropsyche
Summary: Tony broke up with Pepper (or she broke off with him) and he's looking for some short-term love





	Come home with me

**Author's Note:**

> Response to a prompt in Discord server:
> 
> How about a Stripper AU? Not the normal ones though. Tony doesn't know who Peter is and wanders into a strip club after he breaks up with Pepper. He sees Peter, thinks "oH MY GOD A child?!?!?!" and tried to 'rescue' Peter away from his job and Peter just laughs because he actually likes dancing (and Tony nth even if he's entitled).

_“Sure you don’t want company?”_

“Yeah, I’m good.”

The voice on the other end of the phone call didn’t sound convinced, but knew Tony Stark well enough that he didn’t argue.

_“If you drink too much, call me and I’ll come drive you home.”_

“I’ll get an Uber to the penthouse. Don’t worry.”

_“Alright. Good night. Have fun.”_

“Yeah. Thanks.”

Tony hung up the phone with a slight scowl and a big surge of self pity.

_Have fun._

Sure, he’d have fun if Pepper hadn’t finally left him, deciding that he was a lost cause – although she’d been nice enough to _not_ say it in those many words. She was still running his company for him, so at least it wasn’t a total loss, but he hadn’t been lying the day he’d told her he didn’t have anyone but her.

He was lonely.

Not tonight, though, he thought to himself, looking up at the sign above the door. He was going to be reckless. Was going to go to the club, get himself shit-faced and find someone to take home. There were dancers, here. Hot women, beautiful men. All flexible, toned, already proclaimed exhibitionists which allowed them to avoid the bashful embarrassment bullshit and usually more than willing to be picked up for a one night stand with a billionaire as famous and handsome as Tony Stark.

No strings attached sex was just what he wanted tonight.

Tony walked into the dim interior, heading to a small, mostly enclosed area that would keep the rest of the patrons away from him on the chance someone noticed him. It also gave him a good view of the small stage with the pole in the middle and the gorgeous blonde who was working the thing like a champ, her clothing having come off in bits and pieces before Tony’s arrival until all that remained was a thong with fringe along each hip.

Stuffed in that thong were countless bills, with more falling to the stage each time she moved. Tony’s hand slid into his pocket, double-checking that he had a wad of bills – although none were slated for her. He’d been to this club several times, and knew that the woman on the stage wasn’t for him. They’d had a night together and she was good, but she’d hinted to him that she wanted to settle down and start a family, and Tony couldn’t get his penis out of her fast enough, relieved that he’d taken the precaution of using a condom.

He didn’t want commitment, and he _certainly_ didn’t want a family.

The woman’s dance ended, and she left, with a couple of the stage keepers coming along behind her to pick up her clothing and the bills that remained on the stage. When the area was cleared, the watching crowd grew silent; expectant, and the music changed to a slow romantic song just as the next dancer came out onto the stage.

Tony leaned forward, not even realizing it.

This one was male, but so slender and slight that he could have easily been mistaken for female. Until he started dancing. He was dressed in a skin-tight t-shirt that was covered by a vest and a pair of jeans that were also tight. Tight enough that they left very little to the imagination. The boy – because there was no _way_ he was 21 and Tony was going to have to have a talk to the management about allowing minors to work there – had a perfectly round ass and beautifully muscled thighs that flexed under those jeans with every movement.

His arms were perfect, too, Tony saw as he took hold of the pole and slowly made love to the metal as the music played around him. The crowd – mostly women, but not all – cheered when the vest came off, and bills began flying onto the stage.

The boy smiled, broadly, at them and ran his hands along his chest and then down to the hem of his black t-shirt, where he paused, his eyes obviously asking them if he should take it off. There was another loud cheer, and he pulled it up, easily, flinging it off and tossing it into the crowd. It was clearly something that he’d done before, because there was another cheer, more bills thrown on the stage and the boy looked like he was having the time of his life as he returned to the pole for a moment – giving Tony a good view of his body as he turned.

The billionaire felt his cock twitch in his pants.

No one was that perfect. Face to die for, lovely dark brown curls and lips that demanded to be kissed. His shoulders were square and finely muscled. Not bulky, but _so_ beautiful. Chest well-defined and a flat stomach with a six-pack that Tony found himself aching to run his fingers along.

God, he couldn’t wait to see if the boy took his pants off as part of the act.

A moment later he found out that yes, he _did_. Another look at the audience, and the easily tear away jeans were gone, leaving only a blue thong that did nothing to hide the boy’s impressive package and the beautiful tight ass that was screaming to be fondled and kissed. His legs were just as perfect as the rest of his body.

Surprising Tony, the kid went out to the front of the stage and hopped down, ignoring the bills that were being tossed onto the area near the pole. A smile on his ridiculously young face, the boy went over to a small group of older women and danced with them for a moment, not at all shy about putting his hands on their hips and gyrating with them as they cheered and coaxed. Several bills found their way into that thong, and Tony smiled.

The kid knew how to work a crowd. He was probably as much a showman as Tony Stark.

“Cute, isn’t he?”

The billionaire turned and saw that the manager had come up behind him without him noticing.

“Tell me he’s not a minor.”

“He’s _twenty-two_ ,” came the assurance – along with a knowing smile. “I double-checked when I hired him, because he looks fifteen and I didn’t want to get into any trouble.”

Tony nodded, looking back at the boy, who had returned to the stage and was now dancing against the pole, his hips flexing each time he rutted himself sensually against the metal.

“His name?”

“Peter Parker. Stage name? _Peter_.”

Tony smiled.

“Not very original.”

“He’s a good guy, though. He’s been here for two months, now, and the people come to see him. Always on time, never touches the others – male or female – and is remarkably drama free. Everyone loves him.”

The dance ended and the boy on the stage waved a goodbye – blowing kisses to the women that he’d danced with.

“I can see why.”

“Want to meet him?”

“Yeah. _By myself_.”

Another knowing smile, which made Tony scowl.

“Dressing room one. You know where it is.”

The manager slapped his shoulder and left and Tony finished his drink, waiting for the stage keepers to clear the bills Peter had left behind and give them time to deliver the pants and the money to the boy before finally moving away from the darkened front of the club to the better-lit and much less populated back of the club.

For security reasons – of course – there were two very large men standing at the beginning of the hallway. No one would get to the back and bother the dancers. Tony was an exception, of course, and he simply nodded to both men as he walked between them, heading for the dressing room at the far end, and knocking, lightly.

“Come in.”

He did, and closed the door behind him before looking around.

A small room, of course, with a rolling rack of outfits, a vanity with a large mirror that lit up, some cosmetics, a chair in front of it and a small sofa. No decorations on the walls, and no windows. There was some light-hearted music playing from a speaker on the wall, and the boy himself was seated in the chair, straightening out crumpled bills and stacking them by denomination.

His eyes widened when he recognized who was standing in his dressing room, and Tony decided that they were his best feature – even though the kid was only wearing a pair of green boxers, so _all_ of his features were still quite visible.

“You’re _Tony Stark_.”

Tony smiled, pleased at the reaction.

“I am. And you’re _Peter Parker_.”

As if realizing that he was only moments from becoming a mindless fanboy, Peter echoed the smile and blushed, his porcelain cheeks suddenly rosy.

“Yeah.”

“I hope you don’t mind me barging in here,” Tony said – well aware that he would have barged in, even the kid had hung out a do not disturb sign. “I just wanted to tell you I enjoyed the show.”

Peter blushed, again, deeper, but his smile was wider, now.

“Thank you.”

“Have you been dancing long?”

“No.”

“I find that hard to believe,” the older man said, stepping away from the door and moving to stand nearer to the vanity – and the boy. “You’re very good. Did you go to school for it?”

Peter shook his head.

“I’m taking molecular biology,” he replied. “The dancing is self-taught. But I’m getting there.”

“You’re good,” Tony said, trying to keep from gushing like a horny schoolgirl. He'd seen enough of them, he knew what they acted like - and sounded like. “But you should be dancing on _Broadway_ , not wasting your talents in a seedy club like this.”

Peter shrugged.

“It’s not so bad. They treat me well.”

He was sure they did, since it was clear that Peter brought in a lot of money. Still…

“It’s not safe, though. The people that come to these places… they can be crazy. And dangerous.”

“ _You’re_ here,” Peter pointed out.

“And I am both crazy _and_ dangerous,” Tony admitted.

Peter actually laughed at that – although Tony hadn’t been completely joking.

“I like it.”

“Is that to pay for school?” Tony asked, pointing at the money on the vanity.

“No. This will go to my aunt’s vacation fund. She doesn’t know where I get it, but I’m going to send her on an amazing year-long cruise around the world for her birthday. I don’t _need_ money for school.”

“Scholarship?”

“Yes.”

“What about living expenses…?” Tony asked, curiously. Why would someone do what Peter did if he didn’t need money? “How do you pay your bills?”

The boy hesitated.

“It’s sort of a secret,” he finally said. “I don’t really want the other people here to know.”

The billionaire couldn’t contain the smile. Oh, God. Was he a secret drug dealer? A politician’s black sheep son who was privately rebelling but doing so with a payout from daddy to keep him from becoming an embarrassment?

“You can tell me, kid,” Tony said. “I’ll find out, anyway. All I need to do is go look.”

Meaning there wasn’t a secret in the world hidden from Tony Stark. It wasn’t a false brag, either.

Peter shrugged.

“It’s a trust fund.”

Hah! Politician’s kid. Tony loved being right.

“Ah.”

“My folks were killed in a plane crash when I was really little,” Peter said. “Their life insurances and the airline’s settlement were placed into trust for me by my aunt. It's been gaining interest for years, and when I turned twenty-one, I started collecting on it.”

Tony was surprised – and felt a little guilty for bringing up what must be a tough memory – although it was an old one, if the boy had been little.

“So you have money…”

“Yes.”

“A _lot_ of money?”

“Not as much as _you_ do, but yeah. I’m set. _Forever_.”

“Then why are you doing _this_?”

Peter grinned – a truly beautiful and happy smile. He gestured to his body.

“Look at me. Why _wouldn’t_ I? I never could, before the spid – well, I used to be less impressive, and now I look like _this_. And I was clumsy and had no rhythm. But now I have all of that. I could play football, or something like that, but then I’d be famous and have to deal with loss of privacy. You understand that.”

“Yeah.”

So he was a late bloomer who suddenly loved his body and wanted to show it off. Not someone who needed to be saved from a life of dearth. Tony bit back his annoyance, but found himself just as interested in getting to know the boy. The _man_. Well, the _boy_.

“So I dance.”

“You’re _beautiful_.”

Peter blushed, once more the fanboy, and clearly surprised by the compliment. Or at least, by who was giving it to him. Tony was certain it wasn’t the first time someone had said it to him.

“Thank you.”

“I mean it, Peter,” he said, leaning forward, just a little. It was time to make his play. He wasn’t going to be able to save the kid – because he didn’t _need_ saving – but that didn’t mean they couldn’t still have some happy fun time that night – or even the next _few_ nights. “You’re beautiful, and talented, and so graceful. I came here tonight to find someone who might want to spend some time with me – because it’s _lonely_ being famous – and I found someone that _I_ want to spend time with.”

He slid his hand along the boy’s arm, and felt him shiver. Even _better_ , there was a twitch in the front of the boy's boxers that was unmistakable.

“Mr. Stark… I-“

“Call me _Tony_ ,” he interrupted. “Call me anything you want. Come home with me, Peter.”

“Oh.” He was clearly surprised by the request, but he didn’t shy away – which told Tony that maybe there was interest. “I mean… I’m not… I don’t.”

The older man ran his hand along the muscular thigh, sliding his hand up, toward the green boxers, and slid his fingers under the leg, feeling the smooth skin but stopping after only an inch.

“Is there someone waiting at home for you? A boyfriend? Or a girlfriend?”

“No. No one.”

Now his blushes were as far down as his chest. It was endearing – and so sexy. Tony wanted them to go even lower. His hand moved, again, his fingertips finding a whole new texture of skin and the billionaire hid his smile when the boy jumped at the touch, and his boxers twitched, again.

“You’re so sexy. Not a virgin, though, right?”

He liked a fresh face, but he didn’t feel like training, tonight. He wanted someone experienced. Someone who would tell him what they wanted. Could drive him crazy.

“No. Not at all. _You_?”

Stark chuckled at the question.

“How did you guess?”

Which made the tension building between them ease into something less intense, but still palpable.

“Touch me.”

“Can I?”

Crazy to ask, since he already _had_ , but Tony wasn’t going to risk any kind of lawsuit. He didn’t _want_ a noncompliant lover – and he didn’t _need_ one. But fuck, he wanted _Peter_ under him.

Peter nodded.

“Tony _Stark_? Handsome _and_ a superhero?”

Tony knew then that his fame was going to get him what his _money_ wasn’t. And that was fine with him, too. Who knew? Maybe Peter had an ulterior motive to wanting to get to know Tony better, maybe he _did_ need something – or want something. Something money wouldn’t – or couldn’t – buy him. And that was all to the good, as far as Tony was concerned.

He offered Peter his hand and when the boy reached out and took it, Tony pulled him to his feet, took his place on the chair and then brought Peter in between his knees. Looking up at him, he slid his hands along that perfect six-pack and then leaned forward and ran his lips and tongue where his fingers had been, making an approving noise when the muscles under the skin tensed and a strangled noise escaped Peter’s lips.

“Come home with me, Peter,” Tony asked, again, slipping his tongue into the boy’s navel as his hands reached for the waist of the boxers and pulled them down, freeing Peter’s throbbing, eager cock and pressing a kiss on the head. “One night. Unless you want _two_.”

The dancer smiled, running his fingers through Tony’s hair, for support more than anything.

“Tony…”

“Hmm?”

He didn’t look up right away, instead licking his tongue along the slit of Peter’s cock, tasting the precum dribbling freely.

“I probably shouldn’t.”

Tony opened his mouth and pulled Peter’s penis into it, his tongue sliding along the underside of the shaft, his cheeks sucking in as he created enough suction to drive Peter’s breath away. The billionaire pulled back, looking up at him, now, and smiling.

“Because…?”

“Because I don’t want to be a conquest.”

“Well, I _do_ ,” Tony told him, stroking the cock that was gleaming with his saliva, keeping it nicely hardened and doing it on purpose. “I’ll be your conquest. Your bragging rights. The man who got Ironman on his knees in front of him. The lovely man who had Tony Stark swallow his cock – and _more_. Tell the world, or keep it between us. Whatever you want to do.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. Say yes, Peter Parker, and I’ll suck you dry right here and now, and then take you home with me and make you moan all night until you can’t walk.”

“I have to work tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow _night_.”

“Yes.”

“No problem.”

Peter tightened the hold he had on Tony’s hair and guided his face back against his cock, nudging his lips with the twitching head.

“Suck me, Tony. _Make_ me say yes.”

The older man chuckled, and then opened his mouth, once more, taking Peter into it.

Not a problem.


End file.
